Enough To Chew
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: A conversation overheard and a decision made.


_Thanks to PrincessKlutz for beta. :)

* * *

_"I recommend you bite off more than you can chew to anyone, I certainly do." Alanis Morissette

* * *

"Nah, nah, I get it man," Nick said, nodding towards his friend with a slight tilt of his head. The blue light of the lab skewed their vision just a bit and gave their skin an ethereal glow that Grissom took a moment to finally acknowledge. 

"You just got what you want... and now you're thinking you don't want it," the Texan finished, carefully retrieving a slide from under the microscope. It was a heart-to-heart and Grissom was about to witness it, first hand. The thought intrigued him because though he'd participated in a few in his lifetime, he wondered how others handled themselves in such situations.

Warrick glanced at him, assessing the situation he'd waded knee-deep into. Grissom hung back in the shadows, a lab report clenched in one hand, his other fist a loose ball at his side.

It was the period of the night when time seemed to slow, to transform into a thick, honey-like passage, flowing by them as if seconds were minutes. It was the time of evening during which the first-string techs headed home leaving minor, fleeting replacements.

It was the time of the evening during which Grissom and his team felt the most alone in their lab.

Placing his own slide on the black, lacquered counter, Warrick carefully boosted himself up onto the surface, peering over Nick's shoulder as he fiddled with the fine adjustment. Grissom realized the setting of the man's shoulders as he posed, "Well, I mean, I think everyone feels like that..." Unsure, Warrick's fingers toyed with a particularly large fray at his knee, glancing at Nick's back, nearly begging for an explanation of his earlier statement.

Another swivel of his head and Nick was shrugging the question off. "I don't know man, I've never been married." A brilliant stall tactic, one that Grissom might have used himself had he been in such a situation.

But Grissom could hear the smile in his voice and supposed that this incident was different. "I guess I'm of the persuasion that believes you know when you've found your soul mate... and when you do, you marry 'em, no question."

The deep, throaty chuckle that came from Warrick caught Grissom off guard, and he stumbled back a bit, further into the shadows. "Some sort of suave, Southern thing, right? Do they teach you that at birth," he ribbed, "Or is that something that comes with age?"

"We're not like cheese Warrick, no," came the friendly retort as Nick replaced the slide and snatched another. "And no, it's not a Texan thing... it's just... maybe how I was raised?" Abandoning his work for conversation, Nick spun around, big hands braced on the sharp edge of the table. "Listen..."

"Yeah? What?" A tilt of his chin and Warrick meant business; he was truly invested in the conversation.

A light flicker of blue passed over Nick's mouth as he licked his lips and Grissom, the investigator getting the best of him, leaned in, so he could hear the heart-to-heart that was about to transpire. "From the limited interaction I've had with her," Nick treaded lightly, "Tina is a wonderful woman. She's beautiful, she's smart, she can take shit from the boys... and really, man, she can _cook_."

Grissom rolled his eyes, smiling a little devilishly to himself at the slightly misogynist comment; every man wanted to eat good food and for some reason, it was a timeless turn on when a woman could render a culinary concoction into intimate foreplay. "She _can_ cook," Warrick agreed, to which both man shared a laugh.

Nick set him with a steely stare, "Then what is it man? Really?"

Hanging his head, Warrick laughed self-deprecatingly against the starched whiteness of his shirt. "You know those chances that you always regret never making?" Not noticing when his friend nodded slowly, Warrick continued. "Well I keep thinking about that and how this," he held up his left hand. The blue light of the lab caught off the gold around his finger and stung Grissom's eye.

There was a stale silence in the lab. Nick waited for Warrick to continue and Grissom waited for someone to falter, crack and break the moment. This wasn't the type of fragile inquisition that lasted. But to his surprise, Warrick pressed on, willing to fill in the cracks. "This is stopping me, and it keeps me thinking man, what if... you know?"

Nick had taken some chances he wasn't very proud of, but he didn't regret any one of them. He would have rather fucked up than not have known what fucking up felt like, and Grissom knew that. Warrick knew that too. "Why didn't you go for it?" A delicate subject to bring up, to be sure, and so he crossed his arms of his chest and focused his gaze somewhere at Warrick's torso, instead of his eyes.

The corner of his lips was caught between his teeth before responding, albeit a tad shakily, "Just that _no_ that is always there and-"

"So," Nick nearly barked, finally raising his gaze. "So what?"

That had Warrick straight-spined and wide eyed. "So what?"

"No man," the twang entered his voice as it was prone to do when he became excited or angry. "You're not scared of her saying no, uh uh. No, you're scared of her saying yes... because you haven't thought past that." Nick shook his head sadly, although there was a slight smile teasing the dip of his lips. "That's the bad part... you never even tried..."

Grissom, projecting upon himself, would have become angered at such a brash accusation, a nearly public admonition. But Warrick just smiled sadly and nodded. "I know... Tina's great... but... she's, you know" he shrugged, attempting to pass it off as no big thing, "She's no Catherine."

Nick laughed, though Grissom was very nearly sure he only did so to break the tension. "True, true." He thought for a moment, and pressed forward, knowing he was doing more damage than good. "And screw what other people think, really... you know?"

Again, Warrick dipped his head, nodded. "Yeah, thinking maybe it's my inability to let that 'what-if' go that's getting in the way here..."

"Rocky?"

Another self-deprecating laugh, "The damn mountains, not flat terrain. I'm just... fucking up."

"Can't help it if she's not what you want... but you can't... lead her on," Nick reasoned and pushed himself away from the table, successfully breaking the heavy, humid, serious atmosphere of the Trace Lab. "And face it, nothing's as bad as Sara."

The tone of his voice was friendly, brotherly... and yet the implication made Grissom break out in cold sweat. And yet the pair left it at that, didn't elaborate. Warrick slid from the counter and began preparing more slides and Nick continued to examine the ones he'd already mounted. Grissom righted himself and stepped from the background into the light, his folder ahead of him. "Evening," came his gentle greeting; both men stopped what they were doing and stood to face him.

"Hey, Griss..." Nick greeted in return, but Grissom simply passed him the file, quirked a brow and retreated, nearly walking directly into Sara.

His hands reached out to grasp her shoulders, startling her and grounding him. "Sara! Oh-"

"Griss, hi, sorry," she shut the folder and tucked it under her arm, "What's up?"

"Nothing, let's go to dinner."

"Huh?" she gasped, surprised, not just by his proposal but by the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric of her shirt. "Yeah, okay, dinner."

"One thing, nothing having to do with tonight," Grissom said, "But can you cook?"

Sara bit her lip and shrugged. "Honestly? Uh, just the bare essentials, really… why?"

"No reason," he smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "Fabulous." Grissom nodded, let her go and stepped away. Sighing, he glanced at his feet and then back up at her. "Great, out front in ten?" But he didn't wait for an answer.

So she figured she should go and change.


End file.
